Pop by Percabeth
by PlatinumViola
Summary: A series of one-shots that are based off the titles of suggested pop songs. Suggestions are welcome. Pure Percy and Annabeth scenarios. Pop, by Percabeth.
1. Chasing Cars

**Hi everyone! Pop, by Percabeth is a series of pure one-shots. Lyrics are often referenced in the fics, and I cross my fingers that you are familiar with most of the songs. I am accepting pop song suggestions, please leave it in the reviews if you'd like to be considered. **

**I hope you like the first installment to Pop, by Percabeth. This is really Annabeth-centric and bittersweet. I think I shed a tear or two writing this, which is a first! Either this fic is sad, or I blame Yiruma's River Flows in You. Hope you enjoy this song patterned off of Snow Patrol's...**

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><p><strong>Chasing Cars<strong>

Her lips are chapped from the biting cold, snowflakes entwined with her thick lashes, and her face pale save the red sting of harsh wind that had stained her cheekbones. Her curly blonde hair softly rides the winds, the rest of her body dead still under the bleak winter sky.

Hands clutched together in an effort to ward frostbite, and a blue scarf round her neck, Annabeth shivered – her soft hiccupy breaths mere puffs that disappear too quickly. Her coat was not enough for hours in Long Island's unrelenting January, and she muttered a Greek curse as she felt the snow beneath her seep into her jeans. She had long stopped crying, but her tears had frozen against her cheeks and she struggled to slow her breathing.

It had not been the first time she had sat on the Poseidon cabin's porch, waiting hours – knowing that Percy had to come back to her. Ever since he had disappeared, life had been a floating dream – she could detach from reality as quickly as she could engineer a series of commands for her cabin. So she sits, her back against the seashell encrusted wall, her bum sinking into the snow of last night's storm.

The sun overhead travels its typical path, beating down on Annabeth's head – a strange irony as the winter gales push and shove her. She leans further into Percy's cabin wall, finding support and shelter against the cabin that still smelled like the ocean in the middle of the winter. It was why she kept on, day after day, sitting against the doorstep that he had stood on every night, breathing the only scent that distinctly reminded her of Percy.

Sometimes, she'd remember. She'd remember Percy's laugh, his smile, the way his eyes sparkled when they met hers. The way his skin felt against hers, when he'd run his fingers down her arms and back up again, how his palm would press into her back, holding her against him so their bodies touched along every point. She'd feel his lips against hers, his breath against her ear as he exhaled – his body taut with desperation to say everything he couldn't as he sought her eyes when they'd sit quietly together, faintly humming campfire songs just before curfew.

Occasionally, she'd think of what they'd say to each other right now. How his smile would tip to the side, and how his voice could break any ice between them – try she might to hold a grudge. They'd sit for hours, fingers tightly knit, talking about anything and everything. How they'd decorate their wedding reception, how they'd raise their kids, what they'd do when the kids set off for college. Call it stupid, but they had never considered life with anyone else other than each other. For them, that path simply didn't – couldn't – exist. They didn't have to ask – they knew each other better than they knew themselves.

Annabeth knew she loved Percy. And Percy loved her. He had never said so – and neither had she – but those three words had been said too much, and they really weren't enough. So instead, they had lain side by side for nights, looking up at the endless beacon of stars. Those were moments when Annabeth learned how to forget the world. She knew a lot, but Percy had taught her all the things that really mattered, all the things that she'd never mistreat or forget or lose. They didn't need anything or anyone when they were next to each other. Those things – those wonderful, perfect _Percy_ things wouldn't ever change.

Not even now, when she sits against an empty shell, the world around her fading to black under her frozen eyelids. Not even now, freezing and bitter in the winter cold.

She was void – because Percy had been all she was, and all she'd ever be. Everything that mattered, anyway. So she'd do everything to keep it that way – her imagination running wild, her memories everything she had left, and the Percy she felt by her side when she was alone, lying here, forgetting the world.

She'd feel the pressure of his body against hers, the imprint of his hands all along her side, so clear that she'd try to open her eyes to see him, so that she could truly believe he was there. But winter and her tears are unforgiving, and try as she might, her eyes are frozen shut by the tears she had carelessly exposed to the wind's bitter cold.

So she settles for feeling him against her, her reverie peaking – because in this moment, she can believe that he had never left at all. That she could lie with him, not needing anything or anyone. That it really was possible to forget the world.

That they could waste time chasing cars, around their heads.

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><p><strong>Hope you caught all the lyric references! <strong>Reviews are greatly appreciated.<strong>**


	2. Torn

**Pop song suggestions are welcome. Enjoy! **This addition's title is taken from Natalie Imbruglia's passionate ballad..._  
><em>****

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><p><strong>Torn<strong>

Annabeth lowered her head to her hands miserably. Were they just going through a phase? The feelings between them weren't the same anymore – and they both could feel it. So when Percy had showed up at her apartment that morning and suggested they take a break, she wasn't surprised. It was as if they were both waiting for the other person to say it. In fact, it was ridiculously close to pathetic fallacy that Natalie Umbruglia's _Torn_ was playing in the background as she had answered the door just two hours earlier.

Maybe they were just starting to realize that sometimes love worked out – and the other times it didn't. Tears were starting to pool in her eyes, making the view out the window a blurry photograph – like how things used to be a couple months ago, when she could still swear that she could fly when she and Percy touched – how he could make her squirm with excitement when his green eyes laughed at her across the room. Before... she hadn't known that she could care about someone else that much, that one, single breathing person could use up all the oxygen in the room.

But this past week especially, conversation _had_ run dry – and Annabeth still couldn't accept that she and Percy weren't going to be spending this weekend side by side on the couch, fingers welded together, the stirring inside her threatening to make her cry and laugh at the same time.

_Nothing_ was fine, and she couldn't help but scream silently. How were they going to take a break? Was it even _possible_ for Percabeth to take a break? As camp counsellors, all the demigods were going to have fits next week. Campers died, campers left, monsters and unfairness and heartless evil bit at their lives endlessly, but their two camp leaders_ not_ kissing at the campfire or winking at each other before they collided in Capture the Flag – _that_ was unreal.

They'd have five hundred messy hands all over their relationship trying to piece it back together – and oh, gods – the whole Aphrodite cabin would take up alchemy or something to "fix" Percabeth with some sort of love potion. It would be Hades next week. Honestly, why _was_ their relationship getting so hard to keep intact?

Annabeth threw her textbook down, something inside her snapping. Well, it wasn't _her_ fault. What she had tried all this time? She had stayed up half the night in bed, thinking about what she could do to fix it. Percy had probably been laughing away on the beach with Jason. Why was _she_ sitting here pretending that she hadn't been let down, left behind cold and chained by her guilt in all of this? So maybe she could've spent more time with him – but really? Percy could've done a million other things too – if he really cared about where this relationship went.

"So this is me," Annabeth spat at a non-existent Percy. "And you –" she cried, whipping around to stare at the wall, her grey eyes turning black, "you've just left me here, showing up at my door saying, 'Hey, Annabeth, uh, maybe we should take a break,' and I'm just supposed to _take_ that? I don't believe it. Thalia's right. Love isn't anything but an illusion, and it's never going to be anything real. Anything substantial. Yeah – _nothing_ substantial. I mean, how much have I invested in this relationship? And what do I have to show for it after you take two minutes to tell me everything's over? _Nothing, _Percy."

It was easier to be angry than hurt, and Annabeth liked for things to be easy. Especially when she was trying not to fall apart. But it was at that moment that her doorbell rang again.

"Honestly, who is it now?" Annabeth breathed, trying to slow her ragged breathing. "It better not be someone trying to sell chocolates."

Slowly, she made her way to the door, taking her time turning the lock, trying to look like it was a typical Friday. She swung the door open, and there, on the step were the familiar blue and black Nikes that she needn't question ownership of. She was about to slam the door closed, but Percy was too fast.

"Annabeth."

"What? Did you come back for all the stuff you gave me? Decided it isn't just a break anymore? The end?" Annabeth met his eyes with her own, and she couldn't help noticing that his eyes were red and pooling. Tough luck. Two could play at an acting game.

"No, Annabeth. Listen to me—"

"That's right, so you can recount why exactly this is all _my_ fault—"

"_Annabeth_, listen, please. I don't know what the heck is going on between us, but I do know that whatever it is... I don't care—"

"Yeah, we've been through this. Two hours ago. You don't care. I don't care. We're over. End of story. You go swimming or whatever the hell you want to do; I go studying my boring architecture."

"Annabeth." Percy voice was breaking. "I mean that I don't care, because I love you anyway. It doesn't matter if things don't go so smoothly, I mean, we'll work through it, right? We've dealt with worse. We can handle a relationship because I- I built it on love—"

"Percy, don't get sappy with me. You just told me two hours ago that you wanted to get a break from me and my incompetence as a girlfriend—"

"-I never said that—"

"And guess what? Percy, you're just a little late. I used to think you were worth everything in my life, but I had an epiphany – whoops, you probably don't know that word – this morning, that you aren't even worth my tears. So again, if you wanted to say sorry, you're a little late. Have a great day, nice knowing you—"

"Annabeth, what about all those afternoons we spent on the lake, talking about exactly this? How nothing would ever come between us? How we promised each other that we would always love each other? I'm sorry about this morning, and I don't want to give up on us. I'm sorry, but I'm going to do everything to make sure that we'll be fine. It's all going to turn out okay, Annabeth. It's going to be fine."

"_Nothing's fine – _I'm_ torn."_

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><p><strong>Reviews are greatly appreciated, and I love an author follow!<strong>


	3. What Makes You Beautiful

**It's been topping the charts, and plays every day on the radio. Might as well write something to One Direction's...**

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><p><strong>What Makes You Beautiful<strong>

Annabeth rushed out of the door, frantically late for the time she and Percy had agreed on. Why did he have to ask her out for something "special" when the school year was almost over? June 28th, couldn't he have waited a couple of days until it was summer vacation? She flipped through her text messages, trying to find his text. She had barely had time to skim through it before she had to run. Teaching archery on top of Greek mythology was proving not to be a good decision on her part.

Finding it, she eagerly stepped on the gas and sent her car quickly toward his house. _Hey Annabeth,_ the text read. _ I want to take you somewhere really special Friday night. It's a surprise! Hint: wear something formal. My house at 7:00? _7:00! She was running later than she thought. Her dashboard read 6:48, and Annabeth's heady personality started to show; she was driving way past the speed limit.

Wait, formal? She muttered a Greek curse under her breath. Why the heck would he want her to wear something formal? _Oh, Percy, _she thought. _It's probably a nice restaurant, is it? _Ugh. She was wearing a nice enough blouse and jeans that weren't ripped: a rarity when she had just come from camp. Percy would know that it was nice enough. Turning onto his street, her phone buzzed.

"Percy?"

"Annabeth," he sounded extremely excited. "You're coming, right?"

"Yeah, I'm right here," she replied almost giddily. It was funny how his excitement could spread so easily to her. "Open your door, Percy! I'm right here."

His door swung open, and she reached out to hug him. Percy just stared.

Annabeth grinned. "Like my formal?"

Percy continued staring, and she suddenly noticed he was wearing a tuxedo. She had _never_ seen Percy in a tux. "Um..." she trailed off. _Why in the world would he be wearing a tux? It's June... June... grad year..._ as the realization dawned on her she couldn't resist. "Di immortales. Percy..." a horrible lump in her throat was starting to grow. She was going to cry if this was what she thought.

"I was going to take you to my prom," Percy said awkwardly.

"Oh gosh, Percy..." Annabeth didn't know what to say. "I'm so sorry... I can run back home and get something... but oh, I haven't got any dresses or anything like that... are the shops still open? Wait, do we even have time?" her voice was starting to squeak and she could feel the tears pooling in her eyes. She felt so bad... if she had just taken the time to actually read his text message beforehand... if –

"And I still am taking you to prom," Percy broke in.

Annabeth stopped and stared. "Percy, you're being ridiculous. I'm wearing jeans, for goodness' sake. We can just ask Sally if she's got –"

"No," he insisted firmly. "It doesn't matter, Annabeth. It's not like they won't let you in."

"Percy..."

He pulled her to him, and gave her a little peck on the lips. "You're beautiful, Annabeth. And that's what matters. I'm taking my beautiful girlfriend to prom."

He could see the doubt in her eyes. "Seriously, Annabeth. _If only you saw what I can see, you'll understand why I want you so desperately..._" he sang.

She couldn't resist laughing. "I get it Percy, you don't need to sing."

He bumped her shoulder. "You know you like it, even though I sing off-key."

Annabeth couldn't deny it. "Yes, Percy. I do. It's sweet when you sing to me."

"So is it a yes? You'll go with me to prom?" he catches her eye teasingly. "You know you can't turn me down, now. I'm all dressed up to go."

"Yes. And you look amazing, Percy. I'm thinking I'm going to have a lot of jealous girls in my way tonight."

He laughed. "But you've still got that knife strapped to your leg, right?"

"Of course."

As they got into his car, she couldn't resist, asking him again. It was nice to hear it from such a good-looking guy. "Do you think I look beautiful, Percy? Even now?" It was totally fishing for a compliment, but she knew Percy indulged her with these things.

"Yes, Annabeth. I'll sing you the whole song, if you want. You know..." Percy trailed off. "The way you ask and stuff, it's really cute. It's part of what makes you beautiful."

She couldn't resist the smile then. "About singing to me... I think I'm going to take you up on that offer."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, you're putting up with an underdressed girlfriend for prom, so I figure I can suffer through a couple of verses."

He shoots her a wounded look. "I take that personally."

"Percy, I want you to sing to me. Seriously."

"_Baby, you light up my world like nobody else, the way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed, but when you smile at the ground it ain't hard to tell: you don't know, oh-oh, you don't know you're beautiful..._"

Annabeth couldn't shake the feeling that she and Percy, right now, were the picture of young love at its finest.

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><p><strong>Reviews are greatly appreciated, and I always love an author follow!<strong>


	4. Stronger

_**Hi everyone; wrote this in my creative writing class, supposed to be an outline for a dramatic moment. Hope it's dramatic enough. Influenced by Kelly Clarkson's...**_

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><p><em><strong><strong>_**Stronger**

_I like my job. When I graduated from aesthetics everyone believed I had serious talent. My big break – working as a stylist on Broadway – was a dream come true. When I was offered being the stylist of a young pop singer close to my age, I was honoured. Few girls this young end up doing so well in the industry. He was friendly and good-looking, and I thought, "Hey, maybe I've got a little crush on my client. No biggie." _

I'm in love with him. Everything I want is literally under my fingertips. As I dust a light foundation base onto his face, I can't resist dragging a nail against his jawline. His eyes stay obediently closed, and I swallow. A million girls would die to do what I do – but they don't know how much the job really stings. The screaming crowd doesn't know him like I do. Hell, his girlfriend doesn't know him like I do. How we nod our heads to Bob Marley when we've got some spare time, how he'd never be caught dead listening to the kind of music he sings. How the perfect god they think he is isn't anything but a mirage of my own doing. I've got to deal when he breaks out, or when he stayed up too late with said girlfriend. I work on a rash on his chin, taking a little longer smearing cover-up on it – pretending that the skin tone won't blend well. I call for a darker tone to my assistant; he spent a little too much time in the sun during the photoshoot yesterday.

_We're sitting on the sofa, nothing special. I'm trying to get a feel for his style, or whatever style he wants to go for. I have catalogues and magazines in hand, a pen in the other, ready to plan out colour schemes he might want to work with. He rolls his eyes when I ask to get back on task; "Who cares, Annabeth? Besides, isn't this your job?" He pulls on my arm and said, "Why don't we just hang out? I'll leave the styling to you. I'm good with anything." _

I don't think his girlfriend's even seen him like this; even after my team has prepped him for me. So... normal. So everyday. I line his eyes subtly with a slightly darker skin tone to make them stand out.

"How does that feel?"

He smiles. "Like normal. Is the rash giving you trouble?"

"Mmmm. Kind of."

"Sorry about that. It was itchy this morning I couldn't resist scratching."

"Don't worry about it." I nudge him, "this is my job, remember?"

"I hear a smile in your voice."

"Well, your screaming fans have finally made you go deaf."

"All part of the job, Annabeth."

I move his hair around a bit, putting a little bit of gel into it, then step back. "Ready."

"Sweet. I think I owe my career to you. Who knows how many fans I'll lose if I go out there looking like a normal guy? I have to be perfect," he winks. "And you make sure it happens."

My muscles constrict. I feel like a hammer has been striking me in the head over and over. "Yeah, yeah."

He shrugs his sports coat on, and gives me a tiny wave before slipping out to talk to his manager. I lower myself to the comfy seat, and grab my purse from its hook. My hand snakes down, grasping for the cool metal of my revolver. I feel down the barrel, before clicking the safety. If I know Rachel – and I know her too well – she'd be sashaying in here in a few minutes, wondering if my team and I are done prepping her boyfriend to perfection.

As planned, she knocks twice before peeking in. "Annabeth! Are you done with him?"

Plant smile on face. Walk forward. Reach out, around her neck. Back of the head. Centre. Pull trigger._ In 2.03 seconds. _Blink. Don'tforgettoblink.

I feel the recoil before I realize I' m hearing the gunshot.

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. I think it's obvious who's come out alive in this one.

"I deserve him. And if I can't have him, you can't either, Rachel."

Security and a bunch of the tour team are scrambling through the door. They're fast.

But not fast enough. She's dead.

And I'm still holding the gun between my thumb and forefinger.

"Looking for the stylist?" I breathe.

I hold the revolver back up. "Is it because someone needs a touch-up?"

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><p><strong>Yeah; pretty short. Reviews are greatly appreciated, and I am accepting pop song requests.<strong>


	5. Sofa

**Hi all. Back with a shorter fic. If you like these Percabeth oneshots, be sure to check out my separate oneshots Deodorant, Not a Penny for Her Troubles, and Not a Kiss for His Worries. **

**By ButterflyFlyToMe's suggestion, here is a happier Percabeth moment. If you catch the lyric references, you are awesome. Based off of the suggested Ed Sheeran song...**

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><p><strong>Sofa<strong>

Percy tightened his arms around Annabeth's waist, swearing he could feel her scent filling his lungs – in and out, in and out. By the gods, he could get high on her smell. She was asleep, her lips quirked up in a little smile. The shadows of her lashes danced on her cheekbones, and Percy openly stared – he'd grab the chance while she was unaware. Her cheeks were flushed with sleep, and she looked like an angel.

Curled up against him, wearing his warm, baggy sweater, she looked perfect. He wouldn't want to be anywhere else. He ran his fingers through her blonde curls, childishly plucking at them and watching them bounce. He loved it when Annabeth was asleep. She'd never let him get away with this if she wasn't.

Reaching out, Percy turned the radio on softly. It was raining outside, fat drops plopping onto the window beside the sofa. The perfect day for staying in, next to the prettiest girl on earth. Annabeth shifted and opened her eyes.

"Percy?"

He grinned automatically. "Who else would it be?"

"Smmhmmff.." she muttered, resting her head on his chest.

"What do you want to do today?" he asked, taking another deep breath of Annabeth.

She pressed her cheek against him. "I don't know. What could we do?"

"We could go for a walk in Central. Take a ferry there. Go biking, maybe? Or eat out and go shopping. Watch a movie. There are documentaries at the Science Centre. Didn't you think those Dead Sea scrolls were interesting?" Percy ran through ideas in his head, trying to find something that would appeal to his girlfriend. "Maybe go to the beach if it stops raining. I could cook something-"

Annabeth lifted her head and raised her eyebrows.

"-or I could _not_ cook something... I could try baking cupcakes. We like cupcakes, don't we? Or.."

"Percy," Annabeth smiled up at him, "how about we do something we like doing?"

He stared. "What do you mean?"

"Well," she said, her lips against his collarbone, "I kind of like what we're doing right now."

"You mean, sitting here?"

"Yeah, it feels like flying, sitting here on the sofa with you."

"Flying? Uhh..." Percy figured her intelligence had finally driven her off the cliff.

"Yeah. Flying. Now shut up, before I take it back," she said playfully. "I don't say stupid things like that often."

"You don't want to do anything? Something?"

Annabeth looked pointedly at him. "We _are_ doing _something_ Percy. Unless you don't like this?"

He stared at her messy locks, his hoodie loose on her frame, sockfoot next to him. She wasn't wearing any makeup, as per usual, but he thought she was more ravishing than Aphrodite. And here she was, spooning against him, her head on his chest, and she was asking if he didn't like this?

"No," he sputtered. "I _love_ this."

Annabeth grinned, knowing she had him. "So why do we have to do anything else?"

"I don't know... we can go anywhere you want. Do whatever you want. But you like this better?"

"Yes, Percy. I'd rather stay on the sofa with you."

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><p><strong>Sigh. Good old Percabeth. Reviews are awesome, but I always love a good author follow! :)<strong>


	6. Listen To Your Heart

**Patterned off of Cascada's...**

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><p><strong>Listen to Your Heart<strong>

The breeze nipped at her cheeks, a reminder that it was no longer summer, and autumn – bringing with it winter – was setting in. She tugged her jacket tighter around her, trying to keep the warmth in, and the chill out. Her curls rested around her shoulders, a makeshift scarf. Her face was expressionless, which was how she usually liked to keep it these days. Her gray eyes piercing, her lips not frowning or smiling. Her sneakers crunched against the frail, brittle leaves, keeping time to her slow-beating heart. It was deafeningly silent, like always. She could feel her blood run through her body, and she felt very, so very, alive.

Annabeth had always loved walking in the woods, and now, at dawn, it was a peaceful respite from her camp duties. It had been getting harder and harder to stay together when memories of Percy swam in her head. This whole camp had Percy written all over it – in the way newcomers were claimed immediately or shortly thereafter, in the way they sang rounds at the campfire, in the weekly games of Capture the Flag. How Chiron's face had never lost the lines in his forehead since Percy's disappearing. How the whole camp prepared for possible war with stronger hopes and more dedication.

To others to whom he was nothing but a legend, it whispered Percy. To his friends, it spoke Percy. But to her, most of all, it screamed Percy – so loud that she'd clamp her hands over her ears in an attempt to block the nonexistent sound, her brows furrowed as she tried to fight the noise that wasn't even there. She wished she couldn't hear it, that she could close her eyes and never see all the reminders, forget how to feel and never know the emptiness she felt.

She hated the memories sometimes. How they'd buzz around her head, taunting – reminding her that demigods could never _ever_ catch a break. She hated how people looked at her with pity – people she didn't even _know, _whispers around her saying, "She lost her boyfriend. Yeah, that's Annabeth – she was dating Percy Jackson. She's a lot more short-tempered now. Better make sure you don't do anything wrong around her."

She'd like to see _them_ lose someone like that. Gone in the night, with far less fanfare than he had arrived with. They couldn't even imagine what she was going through every day. If she, Athena's chosen and blessed, was struggling with life – then they wouldn't even be able to handle a day of what she had faced since Percy had disappeared. They knew _nothing,_ nothing about her. They'd never understand or empathize with her bitter reality.

She kicked an oak, waiting for the whiny dryad to emerge. No one did, and she wondered whether they were all afraid of her now. Or perhaps bitter that she had been so cross these days. Her heart beat faster, and she forced it to slow its rhythm. There was no point in venting her anger and frustration at the trees that sheltered her from other people just now. Taking deep, shaky breaths, Annabeth tried to focus on why she had come.

It had been months since Annabeth had walked in the woods like this – alone and thinking. She wouldn't ruin it. She didn't even know what had urged her to break curfew for an early morning stroll. Her presence of mind had even proven faulty, as she was weaponless in a forest stocked with monsters. She had carelessly left her knife on her bed, her hair loose in the wind, clothed in the shorts she had slept in and a jacket she had somehow grabbed in her inexplicable haste to get here. She didn't know where she was going, and she didn't know why she was going.

But she had come here nonetheless, seeking refuge from the stares and whispers of people who pitied, and people who gawked. If she were caught, she wouldn't be able to explain. Which was a strange event, because Annabeth had always been a thinking sort of person. She _always_ had a reason for what she was doing – always had some sort of logic behind it. But perhaps it was because she was always listening to her inner Athena – forever following her mind, her thoughts. Now, she had been propelled, much more so than anything else she had done, by something else.

She was doing what Percy had always done, and she felt breathless at the new feeling.

She was listening to her heart.

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><p><strong>If you haven't yet, I'd love it if you checked out my Percabeth fics <strong>

**Deodorant: s/7953180/1/Deodorant**

**Not a Kiss for His Worries: s/7948662/1/Not-A-Kiss-For-His-Worries**

**Not a Penny for Her Troubles: s/7946421/1/Not-A-Penny-For-Her-Troubles**

**The Water Seep Through: s/8065297/1/The-Water-Seep-Through**

**Reviews are greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading, and I love an author follow!**


	7. Use Somebody

**Back with another Percabeth one-shot. Now, I realize that this song is not pop, but I thought it would be fitting. Kudos if you catch the lyric references. I present Kings of Leon's single...**

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><p><strong>Use Somebody<strong>

Silence filled the cabin, and Percy's throat clenched. Life wasn't too bad – he was alive, after all. He had made friends, he was successful on the quest, he was praetor. Still, the emptiness refused to leave the pit of his stomach, and he squirmed restlessly on his bed.

Annabeth had plagued his dreams, and now that he had his memory – he almost wished he could lose it again. Now, knowing all he had with her, memories filled every place he couldn't reach. He couldn't drive them away with any training or long day at camp. She revolved around his head, too far for him to grasp, and too close for him to ignore. Everything about his day spoke about her lately – he could pick out the things she knew, the things she said, the things that made her Annabeth in just about anything.

Today, he had seen a sweater the same colour as the shirt Annabeth had worn on their first date. The memories were driving him crazy. The door leaped out at him as the door she had knocked on when she dropped by after training. The sky was the same sky they had been under – the earth the same – the air could've been the same that had given her life yesterday. Any time he'd hear a knock at the door, her pretty hand hitting the oak...

A knock sounded at the door, and he jumped. It couldn't be Annabeth. He got up lazily, unwilling to leave his memories and dreams at the bed. A pretty girl stood on his praetor porch, her blue-green eyes sparkling.

"Um, hi. Can I help you with anything?" he asked uncertainly.

"Why don't you have a girlfriend yet, Percy Jackson?," she had asked in the brutally frank manner of the Romans.

He didn't know what to say. "I do have a girlfriend..." he started and faltered.

She brushed her side bangs out of her eyes. "In the Greek camp?" she said, not bothering to hide the prejudice she held against Greeks.

"Yeah," he breathed, his thoughts floating back to Annabeth's bouncy, curly locks.

She sighed. "You can have countless lovers under cover of the street..."

Percy turned abruptly to her. "What does that mean?"

Her lashes cast shadows on her cheekbones, and she looked up, eyebrows raised. "You know. Why not enjoy the freedom of having your girlfriend far, far away? I doubt you'd have issues finding a willing girl."

He swal lowed. Romans sure didn't beat around the bush. "Um, I think I'll pass on that. I –" he scrambled for an explanation.

"Dedication," she said dreamily. "Dedication and stupidity. What's the difference? Romans don't believe in that. Live while you're young, Jackson."

Percy had heard this a lot from, well, other boys at camp who had reputations for playing around with girls. He, however, had a slightly different opinion on the matter – and that, if he were to be honest, was due to Annabeth. "I am living," he started. "I've never felt more alive since I've been going out with her."

The girl cringed. "That was so cheesy. Do you actually believe in that?"

"Yeah, I guess," Percy said, taken aback by her reaction.

"So what do you do when you go out at night? There's a reason why real people who party like to stay single."

He blushed. "I've never really gone out at night."

Her expression was priceless. "You've never been out?"

"I'm not... legal."

She broke into genuine laughs. "You're on Roman soil, Jackson. Drinking age is, like, five years old."

He shrugged. "I'm going to pass."

"Hm." She met his eyes. "I've never really met anyone like you, Jackson. While we're off in the night living it up, you're going to sleep. Your girlfriend is miles away and probably thinks you're dead; you're telling me no. I didn't know boys like this existed."

"They do."

"Well, I bet you your girlfriend's moving on. You can't be the only guy she's ever liked, you know," she said almost bitterly.

Percy could feel the familiar twist in his gut. Jealousy snaked around his stomach as he remembered how Annabeth had liked Luke. "She knows I'm alive," he said firmly.

"How do you know?"

"She knows. She knows I'm alive. I can't explain, but she does. Just like how I knew I loved her even when I didn't remember who she was."

"I can't believe you. This is crazy. You're crazy. This is what love does to your brain, Jackson."

"Then I'm happy I'm in love."

She threw her arms down her side. "This is crazy. Why would you want to be in love if it messes up your brain? Nothing good will come out of it. It's only a weakness in war. People can use it against you. Love twists you around someone's finger."

"I trust her."

"Enough to let her control you? To forfeit your freedom? To give up your ability to make decisions without involving her?"

"Sure."

She blew air out of her cheeks, and her bangs flew to the side. "Whatever."

Percy leaned against the door. "I take it you haven't been in love?"

Her eyes shot him daggers. "I'm no fool. I'm a daughter of Bellona. I'd never let someone have the upper hand in war like that."

"It sounds like you could use somebody."

She laughed. "Oh, I use plenty of people, Jackson. I never walk away from a relationship without the advantage."

"You've got the wrong principle. You'll never be happy that way."

"Well, I've got my benefits," she said uncertainly. "Besides, I've got to go. I'll leave you to your loving."

"Okay," Percy shrugged. "Anytime you can use somebody – when you realize that your way isn't going to work – I'm here."

"Right. Stay in love, Jackson."

Percy grinned. Back to Annabeth memories. "I will."

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><p><strong>Reviews are greatly appreciated! I always love an author follow. Please check out my other fics :)<strong>


	8. Naturally

**Party time! Mark of Athena is out! In celebration of the brilliant writing in MoA, I wrote a fanfic! There are no spoilers, so if you're still reading MoA, read on without fear. Seeing as that book oozes Percabeth - I was totally inspired of the old times. So I chose an older pop song, hopefully you all still are familiar with: Selena Gomez's...**

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><p><strong>Naturally<strong>

Percy and Annabeth walked briskly through the woods – as usual, Annabeth was setting the pace.

"Can we go a little slower?" Percy asked, reaching for her hand. "We're not even being chased by any hydras or sphinxes. The world isn't about to end. No gods want their special items back – why are we walking so fast?"

Annabeth slowed her pace in response, and let Percy stick his fingers between hers. Gods, he was really growing up. She'd never dreamed that Percy could be, well, _romantic_. A little smile formed on her face as she perused the fact that this was the same boy that had thrown a fit when they had to ride the Tunnel O' Love ride together. The smile turned into a grin as she remembered how having to hold hands for some death-defying event – like, say, trying to keep her from falling off Mount Olympus last year – had gotten them both flustered and speechless.

"What are you thinking?" Percy said, her grin already mirrored on his face. "How I still haven't figured out how to look cool enough to walk next to you?"

She glanced up at him. Sure, he was no preppy hotshot that had walked out of a magazine, but he got her all squirmy anyway. His hair had grown a bit, and was ruffling in the cool autumn wind. _Di immortales_, was it messy, but it just made her want to run her fingers through and make it messier. His green eyes sparkled – literally, like sunlight glancing off the sea – and his mouth tipped to one side, causing an overwhelming rush of feelings to wash over her. She wanted to tackle him, hug him, start screaming next to him. She couldn't _believe_ it. Was she actually... _fangirling_... over her boyfriend?

Annabeth met his eyes. "Actually, I was thinking about something completely different. Although," she plucked his collar teasingly, "don't wear stripes on checkers. It's a little too loud."

Percy feigned offense, and patted his collar back into place. "Hey, I've been trying not to die lately. And I don't own a mirror, anyway."

"Not _one_?" Annabeth asked, incredulous. "Percy! Don't you have one in the bathroom?"

He grinned sheepishly. "I let Tyson take it. He made it into this really epic chandelier with Celestial bronze. It's humongous."

Annabeth sighed. "And why would you need an epic chandelier, Seaweed Brain? You don't host too many cotillions, as far as I've noticed."

"Not for me," Percy threw his hands up. "Tyson gave it to Ella. Isn't that sweet?"

That was it. Annabeth let herself stare up at him. "It _is_ Percy. And because I'm sweet, I'll get you a mirror for your bathroom for Christmas."

A smile broke across his face. "Thanks, Annabeth. It's getting a little hard to shave without one."

A lump formed in Annabeth's throat. _Shave_? By the gods, she knew he shaved of course, but... she hadn't given it much thought. Shave, shave, shave. The silence became awkward. Percy... was growing up. Why hadn't she noticed? When did he first shave? How did it feel? Did he ever tell her, and she forgot? Her obsessive analytical mind kicked in. He was growing up! She was growing up... this was strange. _By the gods, she sounded like a creep! How many girlfriends thought about their boyfriends shaving?_

"Right," she said, clearing her throat. "I was thinking, about how much you've... we've... grown up. Remember when you refused to ride the Tunnel O' Love?"

"Wow," Percy squeezed her hand. "Let's get the facts straight. _You_ refused to ride the Tunnel O' Love. I was _all_ for riding it with you and saving the world."

Annabeth blushed. She thought he wouldn't remember. "Oh, so you'd liked me since then, huh?"

Percy was silent. "No... yeah... uh..."

She felt his hand get moist against hers. "Remember when you got so mad at Nico, for asking if I was your girlfriend?" Percy's cheeks had started to flush, and Annabeth suppressed a grin. "And when you thought Aphrodite looked like _me?_"

"Okay, wait!" Percy's brain had kicked in. "How do you know this? You were holding up the sky, and that kind of takes a lot of focus. Who told you?"

Annabeth grinned. "Holding up the sky doesn't cut off dreams, Percy. Let's say that Luke thought I needed a little reality entertainment."

Percy was speechless. "You _knew?_ All that time... you knew? Annabeth!"

"Hey, it was cute. It was kind of flattering to know that a boy was rushing across the country to save me. And you think I'm _beautiful_," Annabeth teased.

Percy stared at her, his face growing pink.

"I mean, _di immortales_, Percy. Goddess of beauty, and you think I look like her?" Annabeth couldn't hide the smile that bloomed on her face. "And you were willing to do anything – you'd do anything to save me. You said _nothing else matters_. I was more important than the world to you.." Annabeth laughed, unable to control herself.

Water appeared out of thin air and drenched Annabeth like a bucket poured over her. "Percy!" she screamed, laughing, a side of her that barely saw the light of day. "You cheater," her voice rising an octave.

Percy was grinning, and he pulled her to him and pressed his lips against hers. "Mmm," he muttered. "If this is what I have to do to get you to shut up, I want you to talk all day."

Annabeth sighed and pulled away. Her curls stretched down her back, dripping water around them. "You're so different, Percy. I mean," she tucked a curl behind her ear, "you got so embarrassed when you had to hold my hand. Now, you're not so... obtuse anymore. You're learning."

Percy raised an eyebrow. "Me? Learning? I didn't learn anything lately..."

She laughed. "Okay, so tell me how this makes sense. You were so shy about this," she gestured randomly, "stuff. Now, you aren't that way anymore."

"I don't know, Annabeth. Maybe, the fact that we've almost died together oh, maybe 500 times or so, and the fact that you know me better than I know myself... and how I can't hide anything from you and you know everything about me... and you like me anyway... Why? Do you not like this 'new' Percy?"

"You're not new, Percy," she breathed, as she pressed her lips against his again. "You're just growing up. And as for liking it... It takes my breath away," she gasped, pulling him against her.

He pressed her closer. "Well, I don't know, anyway. When I'm with you... everything comes naturally."

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><p><strong>*fangirl squeal*<strong> **Oh, how I love Percabeth! Please, please check out my other PJO/HOO fics, and I love an story and author follow!**


	9. Sparks Fly

**Shoutout to you reviewers! They're very sweet, and inspire me to write! :) In response to I-Was-Born-To-Be-Somebody and anyone else wondering, the event I referenced in Naturally about Percy thinking that Annabeth looked like Aphrodite, you can find the scene in Book 3: The Titan's Curse. It is in the scene where Aphrodite invites Percy into her limo for a little chat and promises to mess with his love life. Ringing any bells? :P**

**Hopefully all of you have finished MoA! Fear not, fear not. This is another fic with no spoilers. Again, in remembrance of older times when Percabeth was more of a happy thought (hint, hint to people who've finished MoA), I've chosen one of Taylor Swift's older singles...**

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><p><strong>Sparks Fly<strong>

Percy released Annabeth's hand and sprinted toward the leaf pile, leaves crunching under his feet. "Yeah!" he cried, collapsing under a mountain of red, gold, and orange. "Get over here, Annabeth!"

She couldn't resist grinning. "You're such a kid, Seaweed Brain!"

"What did you just say?" Percy's head popped up out of nowhere, leaves flying in protest from his breakthrough. "I _am_ a kid."

Annabeth laughed, and fell in beside him. "You're seventeen!"

Percy stared. "Yeah. You're point? I chillax with gods who are several thousand years old – I'm a baby. I'm a newborn. I'm unborn... I'm so young I'm not born yet!"

"Okay, you sound like you're crazy, Percy," Annabeth grinned, bits of gold and brown leaves caught in her unruly curls. "Are you even listening to yourself?"

"I sound like I'm crazy," Percy said in an announcer voice, as if considering it as an answer to a Jeopardy question. "Close, Miss Chase. I don't listen to myself very often – it really gets in the way of psychosis."

"Psychosis?"

"Psychosis."

"Psychosis – wrong term. I swear you stole that line from Leo. Plus, it doesn't flow very well," Annabeth joked.

"You want flow?" Percy asked. "I'll give you flow. Babe, I _am_ flow. I invented flow. I make flow run in embarrassment," he attempted to do the wave by himself.

Annabeth could already feel her cheeks ache; Percy made her smile far too much. "I get it, Percy. You flow." _Not_, she whispered to herself.

He met her eyes, green against gray. Reading each other's minds, their lips met in the middle. Annabeth would never admit it out loud, but kissing Percy was the only time when she felt marvellously incompetent. There were times when he'd get her with those green eyes, right when the camp's lights would go down. And he'd give her kisses to hold her for when he wasn't around. And by the gods, was he a good kisser.

She had always thought that good kisses came from practice, but Percy had clearly been born with some sort of gift. He'd drop everything, kiss her anywhere, and when her lips felt his, her nerves would flare and she'd try to ration oxygen in her heightened state. The texture of his lips, sometimes chapped, sometimes silk smooth, would be all too familiar on her willing lips. The way he grasped the back of her neck and ran his fingers through her hair, the way his arm pressed into her back, until there was nothing but vacuum between them – made Annabeth gasp at Percy's talent at this game. She could never say no when he pulled the kiss.

When they both pulled away, Annabeth was breathless, and her hands shook.

Percy shot her a smirk. _Vlacas._ The boy knew how good he was at this. "You okay, Annabeth?" he asked, trying to hide his smile.

"Yeah," she said, trying to steady her breathing.

"Are you sure?" he asked boyishly, his shoulder going up in a half-shrug.

Leaves flew at Percy, catching in his messy hair like awkward hair clips. "_I'm fine._"

Soon, they were chasing each other through the forest, armed with nothing but crispy leaves that turned to dust when they grasped them too hard. Annabeth took the strategic way, lining Percy's path with slippery leaves and hidden twigs. He chased her for the fun of it – launching orange leaves like grenades, laughing when one caught in her hair.

Breathless, they collapsed back at the leaf pile they'd started at, lying in the soft cushion of hundreds of the trees' fallen tears. Side by side, his hand caught hers, and their hearts beat furiously, more out of the flirting than the physical exertion. It was ridiculous how they'd been dating for over a year now, but the bubbly, butterfly feeling still hadn't made an exit. Percy was just as teasing as he was when they had first gone out, and the novelty of flirting with Percy hadn't left Annabeth. She'd squirm in her seat when he shot her a smile at dinner; he'd still flush pink when he saw her breathless after a sprint or a near-death battle.

"That was fun," Annabeth sighed, feeling the leaves crackle against her skin. "Just like old times."

"Old times?"

"Yeah. Capture the Flag. You against me. Water against brains. And we always know who wins."

Percy sat up and cocked his head. "Oh, yeah? Water wins. A drenched Athena kid can't use their brain – if they ever had one."

Annabeth took the bait knowingly. "Seaweed Brain!" she got up and chased him across the clearing, leaves crunching under her sneakers.

She cornered Percy against Zeus' Fist. "If you had any strategy, you would've planned the fact that you can't escape in this position."

Percy's eyes sparkled, and only then did Annabeth realize that the river was behind her. She had trapped herself. Before she could voice a complaint about unfairness, a sheet of water had slipped under her feet like a carpet. It morphed into a sofa, the ripples massaging her back. Percy sat next to her. "You wanted flow? I'm the son of Poseidon, Wise Girl," he breathed against her neck.

She felt tingly all over. She and Percy got on like a house on fire. She couldn't deny the chemistry between them. Water and brains was a good combination. _Watery brains? Brainy waters? Di immortales, this was hopeless._

"Okay. I concede the fact that you've got flow," she smiled.

"I like it when you smile," Percy said, letting her rest her head on his shoulder.

"Why?"

"Sparks fly."

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><p><strong>There you have it! Hope you liked it. I always love a review, story and author follow! :)<strong>


	10. Hero

**Attention! This fic has SPOILERS for the Mark of Athena. SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS. Don't read if you haven't finished MoA. It will majorly ruin stuff for you. And as a break from the fluff (I know some of you want more fluff) I have written a sadder, angstier fic. Because you know, MoA's end wasn't exactly fluffy. **

**I hope you all enjoy this fic inspired by Mariah Carey's...**

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><p><strong>Hero<strong>

The falling was endless. A daughter of Athena knew to keep track of time, but seconds turned into minutes, and minutes stretched into hours. Hours into days, and days into a sense of time that Annabeth could no longer fathom after plunging into nothing but blackness. The excruciating, inexplicable fear of knowing that one day, she and Percy would hit the bottom from this astounding height was something that drove Annabeth close to insanity.

She had never known such emptiness, but as she and Percy plunged deeper into Tartarus, the emptiness only grew. She gripped his fingers tighter, sure that she had cut off all circulation days ago, and that he'd never be able to use a sword again. But that was a stupid thought anyway, because nothing but death lay below them. Annabeth had never wanted to kill herself – after all, her fatal flaw was hubris – but right now, she knew nothing but the desire to feel her blade within her. It was her fault, her own stupidity that she was worse off than dead, and the unforgivable mistake that she hated herself for was that she had brought Percy with her.

When had he deserved this? He had done nothing but be there for her, comfort her, stand by her side when she was nothing but pieces. When the weight of expectation became too heavy on her shoulders, he had done nothing but strengthen her. He had saved Olympus, the world from obliteration a few times, and knew purpose to be loyalty to his friends.

Of all people that her negligence could drag to a fate worse than death, she had dragged the only person she had ever truly loved – the one essential to this war, the symbol of hope to thousands of demigods who had heard of his legend. Gods, Annabeth now _wanted_ to fall into this endless pit, because she deserved worse than death. The Fields of Punishment were not worthy of her crime, and she wallowed in self-hatred, despair, and an irrevocable fear of what lay below her.

Annabeth had tried to speak time and time again before, to apologize – though it wasn't nearly enough – but mostly to scream and sob out her frustration at herself. Yet sound did not exist in this tunnel, and every time Annabeth had opened her mouth, the sheer vacuum had absorbed all noise that she could have made as she fell: countless curses upon herself, and a million blessings upon the boy who had refused to release her hand and separate himself from her again.

When she had kissed him and flipped him to the ground at Camp Jupiter, she had made him promise that he'd never leave her again – and gods, she knew he had meant it. But to knowingly _desire_ a fate worse than death when he could have easily saved himself was something Annabeth couldn't accept. Percy _knew_ that he was the most powerful demigod – that the whole hope of this war was nothing but him – and he had sacrificed all of that just to keep his promise to her.

Tartarus may consume sound, but it did not consume tears, and waves of salt streamed down Annabeth's face since light had been nothing but a memory. Percy had given up _everything_ – gods be damned – just to be with her, and what had she proven to him? That her wisdom did not even extend to cutting off the binds around her feet to save herself.

_Annabeth_. _Can you hear me?_

If jumping was possible when you were falling, it was what Annabeth did. Was Percy talking to her? Her mind raced, wondering how she could hear him.

_Annabeth, just think of something to say to me. Talk to me in your head._

_Percy?_ She ventured.

_Annabeth, _his voice held nothing but relief, and Annabeth wondered how he could manage not to hate her. _We can talk like this. Are you okay?_

_Percy, _she sobbed, a new wave of tears dripping down her face. _I'm so sorry, this is all my fault. I should've cut those silk strands while I could. I'm so stupid, so stupid-_

_Hey. It's okay. I want to come with you._

_You're such an idiot, Percy, _she thought. _We're falling to Tartarus_, she sobbed desperately. _It's all my fault._

_Doesn't matter, _Percy thought back. _We're together._

Annabeth was silent for a few minutes. There it was again. We're together. Not we're alive, not we're okay. Those were lies for the most part. _We're together, _she thought. _I promise I'll make it up to you, _she said fiercely, a new wave of emotion crashing over her.

As if he could sense it, he responded quickly. _Don't be ridiculous, Annabeth. You're beating yourself up for no reason. It could've happened to anyone. You're the smartest person I've ever met._

Gratitude filled Annabeth. Just like every other time, Percy had her back. He believed in her, even in the few times that Annabeth didn't believe in herself. She let her hatred subside for a bit, then jerked as a thought came to her. _How are we talking like this?_

Percy was quiet. _I guess we just are. Empathy link maybe? I don't know why, but I always knew things about you when I was Roman. I knew you were alive-_

_I knew you were alive too._

_So, maybe, a love link? _he joked. _Aphrodite finally smiled on us? I don't know. _

A little smile appeared on Annabeth's face. _About time._

The sensation of falling didn't let up, and they fell, not as two shadows against the black – but one.

_Annabeth?_

_Yeah?_

_I love you._

Annabeth didn't know what to say.

_I know I've never said it before... but I do._

_I know. _Tears had started to well in her eyes again, so she tried for a joke. _People who don't love each other don't normally join their friends in Tartarus for a day out._

_Mm._

_I love you too, Percy. You're a hero._

_I'm a strange guy who doesn't know which world he belongs in. I don't know whether I'll see tomorrow, don't know whether I'll survive what I'm facing for today. I don't know what hero really means. A hero is not a hero because he is great – he has to have great obstacles before him as well. Doesn't seem fair to me. Heroes have nothing for themselves but hope._

_You're _my_ hero, Percy. _Annabeth took a deep breath. They had endless time to talk – why not take advantage? _There's something I want to tell you._

_Talk away, Wise Girl. It's not like we have a timetable._

_When you came along, I'd never seen someone with so much strength to carry on. You got scared, but every single time your friends were in danger, you cast your fears aside. And somehow, you've always survived. You can't lose when you give the way you do, Percy. You've got _nothing_ to lose._

_Final words? _Percy asked wryly. _Doesn't seem like the gods are going to smile on us in this place. I've still got something to lose – you._

_This is ironic, because I was thinking the opposite minutes ago. But hope isn't gone, Percy. Just like hope wasn't gone last summer. There's something inside you: a reason why you're the greatest demigod. Greater than Hercules. Than Theseus. Than the original Perseus. _

_I know what you're going to say, Annabeth. You're going to tell me I'm strong. That I stand because I refuse to believe hope is gone._

_No. A hero lies in you, Percy. Not a hero like the ones before: the ones who slayed monsters with their strength, who outwitted gods with their wisdom, who invented things that changed the course of mankind. _

_Stop. I can't. _Percy's breathing was ragged. _You can't think that, Annabeth. I can't meet all the expectations that people have of me. I'm _not_ the greatest. Stop saying I am. I can't be the greatest. The others faced the world alone. They walked the long road with no hand to hold. I can't do anything without my friends. Without you._

_Percy. It's not what you do – it's what lies in your heart. You have a hero's heart. You're selfless-_

_I'm not! I let go of that ledge because I can't face all the challenges up there without friends. And the Fates wanted to take you, of all people. You don't understand, Annabeth. It's better that we die together. I'm nothing but a pawn up there – this is a choice that nobody but I could make. And I made it. I made it because I'm selfish. The world will probably end. All because I wasn't strong enough or selfless enough to keep going without you. _

Annabeth had nothing to say for a while. _Maybe, Percy. But you made the choice because you wouldn't let me face this alone. Someone has to close the doors from Tartarus anyway, maybe we can. Elpis is not dead. Hope is not dead._

It was a while before Percy replied. _I believe you._

_I want you to see the truth, Percy. A hero lies in you. And a hero never truly dies. A hero's legend goes on forever. _

Percy swallowed. _I believe you._

As they fell deeper into the pit of Tartarus, the blackness wasn't as dark as before. There was one goddess who had blessed them, and the glow of Elpis was barely visible around the two of them.

Two warriors who wouldn't go down without a fight.

Two demigods who faced a task no one had ever attempted before.

Two heroes who knew nothing but the terrifying sensation of falling.

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><p><strong>There we have it. An embodiment of the awful cliffhanger Riordan left us with. Hope you liked it! I always love a review and storyauthor follow! **


	11. Give Your Heart A Break

**I'm back... right in time for the holidays! Since it's been a while, let's get to the good stuff. Presenting Demi Lovato's single...**

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><p><strong>Give Your Heart A Break<strong>

"I'll never fall in love."

That's what I've always told myself and everyone who asked. Love is simply... too hard.

But is love harder than psychosis? Because I'm going crazy. I've pulled all the stops – I'm barely recognizable to myself at times. I've spent a few hundred hours agonizing over the way he looks at me, the things he says, what goes on in his head.

Look – I'm Annabeth. I don't _do_ stylish outfits. I've mastered nothing but a basic ponytail for my hair. I'm not completely stupid – but I've done a heck of a lot of learning over the past couple months. Now? I think I've spent more time in front of a mirror for the past eight weeks than I have in my whole life. And for what? All for a boy... with five letters in his stupid name. Yes, Percy.

As I'm thinking this, I don't even sound like myself anymore. I sound... lovestruck. Oh, gods, what in Zeus has happened to me? I've gone shopping for skirts – I learned that foundation and concealer were not the same thing – I found out that torture contraptions dubbed, "eyelash curlers" are available at my nearest drugstore – I realized that I could walk in high heels – and I read my first edition of _Vogue_. But Percy? He's freaking _immune_ to all this.

Is there a drop of testosterone in that boy's body? So, yeah, I realized that I could actually be beautiful... in that supermodel kind of way. I achieved the cover look in a few hours? That's got to say something, right? I'm not only brainy; I'm beauty with brains now. But does it matter to the stupid boy? Heck, no. Every single guy has looked my way – kind of like, hey, Annabeth's actually _hot_... who knew? – but Percy hasn't sent me a single approving glance. Man... shouldn't I be _reeking_ of estrogen? Is he void of hormones?

I have sunk _so_ low. I'd pull my hair out in frustration, if only my highlighting job didn't cost me ten drachmas at the Aphrodite cabin, and I seriously doubt Percy has a bald fetish. Is _this _what love does? Because I am sounding critically psychotic, I am not acting like myself, and I have been pressed to do a million things that I thought would only happen over my dead body. I think I have a right to collapse in a heap right now.

My face is hot and flushed, and I try to still my shaking hands. What will get him to notice me? I want him to see as more than a brainiac. I'm totally eating my words now, those taunts I shot back at Drew about knowledge being the highest form of pleasure. I'm so tempted to give up a few hundred architecture facts to pay for the feminine glow that makes boys turn – most importantly, Percy.

I don't even understand... I _see_ Percy glance at the Aphrodite girls. I want to strangle them one by one as they saunter with their pencil skirts and heeled boots. They catch his attention. So I thought, _fine_. I'll wear a pencil skirt and heeled boots. But he hasn't looked at me all week.

The most I've gotten was my desperate attempt for conversation, saying, "Hey, Percy... um, did you like lunch?" My mind was screaming, _hey, I'm wearing that outfit that made you turn last week... I know you like it..._ and he had given me the weirdest look and nodded. _What the freaking Fates?_

My heart is breaking... it's in pieces because I am doubting every single thing I once knew about myself... and my world is shattering because I don't know how to function any more... for once, Annabeth Chase has absolutely no idea what to do... because I've done everything and anything I thought – was sure – would work... and it's done absolutely nothing but shoot my ego to bloody bits.

So I let myself vent, leaning against the back side of my cabin, not caring that my tears are washing my perfect complexion away – courtesy of MAC ultra concealer stick – and that my eyelashes are rapidly losing their added length and thickness – courtesy of CoverGirl's Lash Blast in Blackest Black – and that my hair is starting to frizz because I forgot to spray it after I straightened this morning. My eyes leave black smudges against my skin-tight jeggings and drops of my skin tone stream down my face and scatter across my white lacy tank top.

Whatever. It was useless trying any more. I'm clearly just not Percy's type. I'll bet you my life that he likes redheads. Well, you know what? Bloody Zeus, Poseidon, Hades and all the gods. See if I care. He can go make out with Rachel Elizabeth Dare and marry her – and I'll just revel in my singleness and freedom from all things disgustingly _male_ and live the life of a true Artemis feminist...

"Annabeth?"

_Vlacas_. _Vlacas, vlacas, vlacas. _I lift my head, swiping my cardigan sleeves under my eyes, trying to salvage what little dignity I had left.

Percy smiles, looking relieved. "Good, it's you. I wasn't sure for a second... lately it's been hard to recognize you from behind."

I swallow the lump in my throat. "Oh, yeah? And why is that?"

He shoots me a look like the answer is obvious, and shifts uncomfortably. "Because... you've been wearing stuff you used to... not wear... and your hair isn't curly anymore."

"And what do you think about that?" I shoot back, accusingly. Let him tell me I look hideous no matter how hard I try. I was well aware, thanks to his ignorance of me.

His expression is pained, like he's wondering why I'm pushing. "I... you look really good, Annabeth. Like, uh, all the guys think you look great."

Oh, Hades. A rush of emotions swell back, and my body refuses to start cooperating. "So..." my voice cracks, and the tears start their steady flow again. I shove my face back into my lap.

"Hey." He's next to me in an instant, awkwardly putting an arm around me. "Why are you crying? What did I say?"

I shake my head weakly, my sleeves already soaked with salty water, black mascara chunks and foundation smears. No way was I lifting my wreck of a face, and now that I was crying even harder – curse his comforting shoulder – I was not going to try to say a single word in my miserable, cracking voice.

"Annabeth," he sighs, "what's up? You haven't been the same lately. We're friends, remember? You can tell me anything."

Ha. Yeah, anything, but when it has to do with _him_ it's pretty awkward telling _him_. I shake my head again.

"Tell me... something, anything, everything. There's only so much you can take, Annabeth."

I shake my head – again. Apparently I've lost all ability to do anything but shake my head and hiccup into my wet jeans. Attractive.

I feel his arm tighten. I peek through my fingers and watch him run his hands up and down the seams of his jeans. He's frustrated. "You know," I say, trying to keep my voice from shaking, "you're a lot like me. You're mad now, because you don't know what to do. You can't fix everything, hero."

Pain and confusion blooms across his face. "Why are you so pissed, Annabeth? What did I do? I'm trying to help you out, because I care. I saw you walk away from dinner with tears in your eyes. You didn't pick up your phone when I called."

"Okay," I say, going for broke. "I'm mad at you for the stupidest reason on the planet, because newsflash – I've been pretty stupid lately. Why don't you... like, I don't understand why all these other girls can just look... a certain way... and I try to look that way... and everything's always worked out for me so you know I have this stupid pride that I always know what to do, right? Yeah, okay... so you're just not looking at me like you look at all those other girls... and I've tried and tried and I don't understand why you can't see me as... as just like, you know? Gods, I'm ranting, I don't even know what I'm saying but," my throat closes up again. "I just want... I don't know what I want, okay, I do. But why have you never seen me as... as..."

"...As?"

I looked awful. I probably had big black streaks gracing my cheeks and blotchy red spots and and and oh gods, I'd come this far, I might as well tell him all and change my name and-

"Annabeth... is this about you changing the way you look?"

I'd roll my eyes if they weren't so swollen from crying. Gods, this boy was obtuse. I nod, avoiding his green eyes.

"Okay. So we're both used to you doing all the talking, but obviously that's not going to work... so I'm going to try and guess what you're trying to say. Nod for yes?"

I nod. Again. Great... now I can shake my head _and_ nod.

"So you said that you're trying to look like other girls? Who I'm thinking dress in jeans that look like they're painted on," he tugs on my belt loop, "and wear American Eagle tank tops even though it's _November_?"

"The _hot_ girls," I whisper bitterly.

Percy's silent for a few seconds. "Wait... Annabeth. Are you... jealous?"

I close my eyes. I have never felt so humiliated.

"Annabeth, gods, wait. Did you think I liked those girls? And so you thought if you wore what they wore, I'd like you too?" his voice is incredulous.

"I know!" I scream, angrily. "I'm an idiot, because I look like a girl playing dress-up in fashionable clothes. I. Figured. This. Out. Percy."

"No!" he looks at me like I'm crazy – which I very well could believe. "Annabeth, what in the world is wrong with you? You don't need to wear skirts and heels or whatever for me to like you. I liked you just the way I met you... in jeans and a camp t-shirt."

"Yeah. You like me as a _friend_. You don't see me as a girl, Percy. You never paid me attention that way. Yeah, I wore jeans and a camp t-shirt... and if I keep doing that, you'll never see me as anything else. I'm just... one of the guys."

"No, you're not. I don't see you like that. I just didn't do anything about it, but Hades, Annabeth. Do you even know how many times I couldn't breathe when I saw you? I saw you as a girl – your messy ponytail? I thought it was _sexy_. I wanted to run my hands up your back and slip my hand into your back pocket. I'd get goosebumps when our hips brush. Trust me – that is _not_ how I feel about the guys." He's sitting up now, staring at me, his stance begging for me to understand.

"Really."

"_Really._ Give your heart a break, Annabeth. Is this why you've been so stressed out lately? Because you were trying to figure out a way to make me like you?"

My eyes flit away, and the answer is out in the open.

"Seriously, Annabeth. You don't need to be in an Aphrodite getup to turn me on. You used to do it every day, when you didn't care whether we flipped the canoe into the lake, when you weren't wearing heels that wouldn't let us do anything fun." He closes his eyes, leans his head against the wall. His cheeks are pink from what he just said. "Gods, I _love_ you. You could wear a potato sack every day and I wouldn't care."

I've never seen Percy so passionate. He meant it. And I wanted to cry.

His eyes meet mine, and he closes the gap between us. Kisses me just to the side of my mouth, as if asking for permission. I smile and my answer is clear. Toe to toe, hips to hips, nose to nose, lips to lips.

His lips on my lips, our hearts beating as one. "You slip right out of my fingertips," Percy breathes, "every time you run."

"I won't," I say, pulling him closer. A boy who'll kiss you when I looked like I did? I'd never let him go.

"Good."

"Percy?" I ask, when I give up trying to live without oxygen. "Why'd you try to act like you didn't like me before?"

"Because the day I first met you, you told me you'd never fall in love."

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><p><strong>Remember that I am ALWAYS accepting song suggestions, especially a few songs for the holiday season! Also, if you haven't checked out my other fics, please do! I'm a complete Percabeth shipper, and there's lots of fluff, romance, and angstier fics for everyone. Follow, favorite, or review? :)<strong>


	12. So Sick

**Hello, my readers. So happy you've come this far... because this is the twelfth one-shot in Pop, by Percabeth! I must be doing _something_ right if y'all are still reading by this point, no? **

**Thank you SO much for all the reviews and follows! You really make my day when I get one of those alerts :) I've had an overwhelming amount of song suggestions, and I'll get to them as soon as I can! **

**I have recently come to the realization that Ne-Yo wrote a million of the songs I hear all the time. So cheers to him and his old, but extremely catchy single...**

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><p><strong>So Sick<strong>

Percy kicked his shoes off and ran his hands through his hair. _This was so useless_. Every single thing reminded him of Annabeth. He had sold their condo, dropped her stuff off at Salvation Army, stuck every single note and card she had written to him in a cardboard box that now sat in his mom's basement. But the ghost of her was still hanging around, everywhere he went.

He'd moved into Manhattan, hoping that the noise would never leave him a chance to remember who she was. But that day that she walked out the door had haunted him day and night. He couldn't talk to a single blonde girl without panic rising in his chest – like this was yet another time he'd lose her. His hands would shake every time he walked by the cafe on West 22nd that they used to visit every weekend they had off. He had given up looking in the mirror – _di immortales_ – because he'd always see her face next to him, smiling back.

Percy stretched out on his sofa, sorely tempted to stop calling her number. But it was impossible; his ADHD kicked in, and he drove himself crazy with all the what-ifs. So he hit redial – he never really called anyone else – and waited for the seven rings that would take him to her voice: "Hey, it's Annabeth. Leave your number and message – I'll get back to you ASAP." It wasn't anything special, just the generic answering machine – but the tingles that ran up his spine and the throbbing that filled his head was too much. He needed to see a doctor for the gods' sake, because listening to her voice on the message had been his addiction for the past 49 days, 15 hours and 12 minutes that she had stopped talking to him for good.

Percy was so sick of looking forward to this time after work – minutes he spent listening to her invitation to leave a message and number, and that she'd call back soon. He was so sick of dreaming her saying those two words – it's over – and waking up with a pillow wet with tears. So sick of asking his colleagues if he had hair sticking up or spinach in his teeth – just because he couldn't handle seeing the face in the glass that wasn't next to hers any longer. He was so sick of spending his evenings in bed, pretending that she was curled up on the other side. So sick of talking to her, only to turn around and realize that wasn't there anymore. He was sick of listening to her playlist – the only thing he'd kept – filled with heartfelt melodies and piano riffs that sang of nothing but love. He'd kicked his iPod across the floor last week, smashed it against the kitchen counter, only to salvage it and plug it back into the stereo to hear Whitney Houston say that she'd always love him.

Their anniversary had passed two days ago, but there was no more Annabeth, so there was no more anniversary. There wasn't anything but her memory that refused to make an exit, and another night listening to those love songs, crying those tears, wishing she was still here. Another night of love songs so sad and slow, but Percy couldn't hit the lights and unplug the stereo.

"Leave me alone," he had said bitterly, partly to her face dancing in his head, and partly to the cracked iPod that obediently played when he hit play.

Because he was so sick of love songs, so tired of tears. He was so done with wishing she was still here. And he was so sick of love songs, so sad and slow...

But not any time soon was he going to turn off the stereo.

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><p><strong>Ha. I'm a sucker for lyric references. Am I getting sappy or what? :P Check out my other fics, pretty please. And follow, favorite, review? All very much appreciated! They make my day...<strong>


	13. Just Give Me A Reason

**Thank you for all the suggestions! I'm getting an overwhelming amount requesting Taylor Swift, so I'll break my rules and write another TS song. However, as requested by sirpug1996, here is a song by P!nk, featuring fun.'s Nate Ruess...**

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><p><strong>Just Give Me A Reason<strong>

Today, I broke into a million little pieces.

So maybe I'm crying...

It takes a lot to affect me. I get mad first. And rarely... when it's really bad... do I let the tears flow.

I, Annabeth Chase, am the stupidest idiot I have met in the entirety of my life.

I thought I knew Percy – gods, I thought I knew him better than I knew myself. And I swear that in this moment, I have no idea why my heart still pounds away, why my lungs swell and collapse, why my nerves aren't frayed into oblivion.

So when I had slipped from the arena, winning every match, breathing the brisk air – I was the happiest I could be: which proves that the only way is down when you're feeling up. I turn onto the path to Percy's cabin, thinking that the only thing that could improve my mood was staring into his eyes that sparkled and rippled under sunlight. Running my fingertips up his graceful neck, knotting my fingers into those dark locks, feeling his warmth against me.

What I found was absolutely beyond me.

Percy was pressed against another girl – a daughter of Aphrodite, by the looks of it – and they were making out. A legit _session_.

Obviously, I was traumatized. I had felt fear. I had felt horror. I had felt irrevocable nausea; the intensity of what was in front of me was too much. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't believe it.

My knees gave up.

I. fell. apart.

He had reduced me to nothing but shards – but boy, can I cut deep.

I opened my mouth as Percy ran his hand up her arm. Nothing came out. I was voiceless, my tongue was paralyzed, and I was a heap on the floor.

We ran into each other at dinner. I couldn't speak. I fought for control.

I ended up walking away.

I'm completely drained of any energy to keep up the act. I had to pretend everything was fine... but I felt so nauseous I honestly felt like throwing up in the bathroom. I didn't even have anything to disgorge: I've forgotten to eat for the past day. I had to smile, greet, make small talk at dinner. When my eyes were stinging and the room was spinning.

The walls were waves, nothing would stay in the same place.

Gods be damned – can I not even get away from a single reminder of Percy?

I can't stand it.

I'm done.

I don't want to talk to him anymore.

I don't want to see his face ever again.

I don't want to ever hear his voice.

And I'm obliged to do it all. Until the day I die.

I was stupid, I was fooled, and I am 100% done with this garbage.

I trusted him. And I hate myself for it.

So when I can't handle it for a second longer, I fly through his door, screaming. I'm hysterical. I can't find the words to express what I want to say – are there even words for this much hate and love and brokenness?

And he grabs my flailing arms, my chest heaving, and when my eyes meet his, he _knows_ I know.

"Annabeth... I'm sorry."

I cringe, tears squeezing out from the corner of my eyes. "You really know how to drive a devastating blow, don't you?"

"I... I don't even know what happened. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He brings his face closer to mine, begging for my understanding.

I don't do second chances. I promised myself I wouldn't be played.

And I was.

Never. Again.

But I still find myself saying, "Just give me a reason."

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><p><strong>This was easier to write, because I'm feeling heartbreaky... and it's been a while since I've been able to tap into an emotion I was actually feeling. Hopefully that compensated for the short time I wrote this in. Reviews are always appreciated, and I love a storyauthor favorite and follow! Thanks..xx**


	14. In Love So Deep

**Hello! It's been a while, so I'm cutting straight to the good stuff - inspired by Charice's...**

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><p><strong>In Love So Deep<strong>

_This moment is all we have. _

Tomorrow, I'll pull myself together and play pretend. Tomorrow, I won't look you in the eye; I'll act like you and I are parallels, always within sight, but never touching. Tomorrow, we will lose everything and we won't have anything.

After all this, I'll fall asleep and lose consciousness, because I can't stay here forever. Sometime, I'll lose the battle and my eyes will close – your image will drift away from me and I'll wake to emptiness and silence. I'll lie all alone, so in love but so afraid.

We can't stay here forever, we'll have to kiss good night and say good bye. We can fight, but the end is surrender. And no matter how hard I try, these memories will fade – minutes from farewell, wrapped in your arms, feeling your heart thud against my cheek.

One day, I won't remember the way your shirt felt between my fingers, the curve of your shoulders, the tick of the clock – our time slipping away. One day, I won't remain the pieces I am – the fragments that are so broken and so forsaken. One day, I'll learn to love someone else, and you will too.

But right now, it is our time and we are doing it right. I am smiling, you are smiling, and there is no trace of tears. There will be endless tomorrows for crying alone, for screaming at midnight, for days that can't fill the void.

I have nothing to say, and my words have caught in my throat, swallowed and dripping in fear, trapped by the awe that overcomes me. In the morning you'll be gone, and how am I supposed to carry on? I can cling to you, hold you tight, pierce myself against you and everything you are – but when we wake from this dream, you won't know my name.

You won't remember my face. You won't realize that those were my hands that tended you, my fears that drew me to you, my love that consumed you. You won't recall that we fought together, and our battle was brave; even when we knew defeat was all we faced, we wrestled. We struggled. We brawled against cruel fate that would draw us apart once again.

We came together in this flash of time, and you won't remember anything when the sun comes up and announces a new day, but I will. We both know that we can't stay, that your fingers can't live between my own, that your arm around my waist is temporary.

But right now, all of this is here. It inhabits us, settles between us, lodges all around us. My love is reciprocated and we are together. We are us, and I am not alone. But tomorrow, I'll wake deserted, and nothing can evoke these memories from your mind.

_This moment is all I'll have._

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading! If you like my writing, follow me on twitter at samkinggg for my writing in tweet form :) <strong>


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